I hold over 100 paintings in my room, and thousands of drawings, and somehow God has provided me with space to continue doing his will to paint in there, I think of Him feeding the 5000 with a few loaves and 2 fish, or whatever it was, and you don't really now how He did it, but He did it, He is doing the same thing in my space, in my place, in my corner of the world.

If I ever visited your place for a year or so, I would fill your basement with hundreds of paintings, I would go for long walks, and come back with many sketches, words, ideas, and you would see the process unfolding, how I paint in my shorts without a shirt, my hair a mess, toes painted, words to myself, singing sometimes, classical and jazz music, U2, beginning with pencils and markers and charcoal, then paint, then oil bar, then more paint, or more ink, or more paper, or more foil.

I am going to look at the paintings, maybe I will see something, maybe I will not, just be a pacing lion, a sitting goose on my new couch.

Some paintings and drawings I do write something about, but for some of them, I cannot think of anything to write, I am not sure if I want to write something, I think maybe it will lose something if I do. Sometimes I think art is in the not knowing, just what is there. I do think that a work can gain something through writing, however. One just has to carefully decide, meditate on each one, remember things, go for long walks, cry in your pain and joy, fall on your floor with the staples and nails.